


Get Me

by designateddriver



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/designateddriver/pseuds/designateddriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela steeled herself. “How do you feel about having certain benefits to our relationship?”</p><p>Fareeha raised her eyebrows, and then smiled for the first time since entering the room. “Angela, you know I already have medical insurance.”</p><p>“<em>Fareeha</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>(Or: Fareeha and Angela have an arrangement.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Me

  


Angela had wanted to sleep all day, but unfortunately, furniture didn't set up itself, and neither did dust disappear on its own accord. She and Genji, bless him, had set to breathing some life into the long-abandoned Watchpoint: Gibraltar. They had been busy all morning, stopping only to meet the newcomers. Names and faces were a blur, now, but Angela had found herself charmed by the ragtag bunch.

  
Now past midnight, she wished she could quiet her mind. Falling into old habits, she plugged a kettle into the wall, tracing patterns in the tablecloth as it simmered. The chamomile tea bag must have been at least 5 years old, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

  
A part of her, a large part of her, perhaps, wished none of this had to be. But the other option had been abandoning people she cared for. Decades ago, as a lonely, orphaned teenager, Reinhardt, Ana... Jack, even, had been her family as much as her colleagues.

  
She had left capable medics in her stead at the relief hospital in Halabja. There, she had been replaceable. Here, she would not be, and that was how she had justified her decision.

  
“Oh! Angela…”

  
Angela startled, jolting up to find a woman in the doorway. She had a large duffel bag in tow, and a tell-tale tattoo curled under her right eye. Dark hair fell to her shoulders, framed by bronze skin.

  
_Fareeha Amari._

  
Angela had to blink to process the changes to her appearance. Fareeha stood tall, now, nearly six feet if Angela guessed, with the assurance of a soldier in her set shoulders.

  
"Good to see you again," Fareeha said, voice smooth and rich. Angela returned her smile, chair protesting against the tile floor as she stood up.

  
They met halfway, and Angela pulled her into a hug. “You as well.”

  
Angela hadn’t been close with Fareeha in their youth, but anything less than a hug hadn’t felt appropriate. Fareeha's tendency to live off base coupled with their four or five year age difference had put a damper on friendship, but Fareeha had always been sweet to her in the time they had spent together, if a little shy.

  
She had trouble rectifying that image with the new Fareeha. She wore adulthood comfortably, and it suited her. Her body was strong and toned, and her features had a regality to them, defined and angular.

  
"It's been too long,” Fareeha said, releasing her from the embrace.

  
_It really has,_ Angela decided, Fareeha’s hands lingering on the sensitive skin of her upper arms. She blamed the 5-year-old chamomile, flushing at her own thoughts.

  
Fareeha raised an eyebrow and Angela cursed her pale skin. A smirk settled across Fareeha’s lips and Angela wanted the ground to swallow her up.

  
“Is there a room I can stay in?” Fareeha asked, hands dropping to her sides, amusement in her voice.

  
“Seventeen should be free,” Angela recovered. Fareeha nodded her thanks, picking up her bag to leave. “Sleep well,” Angela added.

  
Fareeha returned the sentiment, turning around once she was at the door frame. "And Angela? I suppose we'll have to make up for lost time," she said, tone all-too-playful. She left without another word.

  
Angela dropped to the nearest chair and let her head fall into her arms. " _Scheisse_."  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Angela had not slept well that night, and for two very different reasons. Fresh anxieties for the future of this pseudo-Overwatch had dominated her thoughts, and Fareeha Amari had occupied the spaces between.

  
She nursed a cup of coffee at one of the fold-up tables, drowsier than she would have liked. She found, though, that the room, serene and quiet, and the sky, split in oranges and blues, came close to making up for it.

  
"Hello, Angela. I hope I'm not interrupting." Fareeha stood in the doorway, out of breath. An early morning runner. Of course.

  
"No, no. Make yourself at home."

  
Angela's gaze lingered on her as she walked in, eyes trained on the swell of Fareeha's hips in compression shorts. Fareeha crouched down to retrieve the egg carton from the mini-fridge, short hairs clinging to the back of her neck.

  
Her small ponytail bounced as she stood back up. "Would you like anything?" she asked.

  
_You_ , was her first thought, and Angela choked on her own coffee.

  
Fareeha stepped closer instinctively. "Are you alright?"

  
Angela nodded weakly, wheezes dying down. "I'm... fine. I like scrambled," she said.

  
Fareeha studied her for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips. She turned back around with a slight shake of her head.

  
Trying not to think too hard about that reaction, Angela stared into her coffee in shame. Fareeha's voice carried amongst the sizzling of eggs. "You're in luck, Ms. Ziegler. I scramble _egg_ cellently."

  
Angela groaned. "You're lucky you're so attractive."

  
Fareeha turned around and Angela's mind caught up with her tongue. She cursed inwardly. Sleep deprivation destroyed her entire verbal filter, as it seemed.

  
Fareeha laughed. "I'll admit, I'm flattered."

  
Angela had never wished more that she had a spontaneous case of the flu to tend to in the med bay. Fareeha placed both of their plates of eggs on the table, a ghost of a smile still on her lips.

  
After a few mouthfuls, Angela muttered to the tablecloth, "These are very good, thank you."

  
"Glad I could please you," Fareeha said, winking once she caught her eye. Angela hated that her mouth went dry, that her body burned with a low heat.

  
Fareeha washed her dishes and left wordlessly once she had finished her breakfast.

  
Angela groaned. Whoever gave Fareeha this kind of power over her could be damned.

 

* * *

 

 

Angela had dreaded this moment since the day Fareeha arrived. Fareeha's previous doctor had transferred her a full bill of health, and mercifully she wouldn't have to do a full physical.

  
That didn't mean Fareeha hadn’t come to the med bay every other day that week with some sort of minor, training-induced injury. Out of necessity, Angela had set up most of her medical supplies at least a week before she thought she would have to.

  
Normally the antidotes were simple, and she could keep physical contact to a minimum, but from the way Fareeha was clutching her rib...

  
A sheepish-looking Zarya stood next to Fareeha at the doorway, and Angela gave Fareeha a _look_ , as if daring her to explain.

  
"Broken rib," Fareeha said, lifting her shirt to reveal a purplish patch of skin.

  
Angela cursed, scrutiny now focused on the woman next to Fareeha. "Zarya, _Mein Gott_."

  
Zarya opened her mouth as if to speak, but Fareeha waved her off. "It was mostly accidental."

  
"Mostly?" Angela rolled her eyes. "You two are going to kill each other, and your last words will be 'It's okay, I know it was an accident.'"

  
Fareeha chuckled, covering up a wince, but Zarya looked almost comically remorse. “I am truly sorry, Dr. Ziegler. With weights, yes, but with sparring? I do not know my own strength.”

  
Angela sighed, led them to the med bay, and convinced Zarya to wait outside.

  
Fareeha pealed her tank top over her head once she was sitting down, and Angela mentally gave herself a cold shower.

  
Angela applied gentle pressure to the bruised area, and she could feel Fareeha watching her intently. She wasn't sure if she was imagining the softness in Fareeha's gaze.

  
"Just a crack," Angela said, retrieving a nanotech bandage from one of the cupboards. "Please be more careful. I can't be using nanotech every time you go too rough."

  
Fareeha smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  
"Oh, hush," Angela muttered. She tried to will her blush to dissipate as she stuck the square bandage under Fareeha's chest and tossed her her shirt.  
  


"You look good in red, Angela," Fareeha said as she left. Angela wasn't wearing red.

  
She couldn't look at Fareeha for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

  
  
On sleepless nights she’d find herself thinking of Fareeha in the training room. She imagined her grunting as she lifted something heavy, contracting muscles glinting in a light sheen of sweat, focus etched in her features. A warmth would spread lower and lower and occasionally her hand would follow.

  
The sight of Fareeha made her face burn every morning after.

 

* * *

  
  
It had been Jesse's idea to find the nearest bar.

  
They’d just come back from their first difficult mission. Torbjörn, Reinhardt, Hanzo, Zarya, and Tracer had come along, and Fareeha had been easy to convince once Angela agreed.

  
At first, Angela wished she hadn’t. Fareeha had chosen that night to wear a tight tank top and a leather jacket, and Angela’s eyes gravitated to her body.

  
Now, Angela had had too many drinks to be bashful about staring, and Fareeha seemed to relish in her attention. Fareeha flexed as she reached for her drink, tipped it back just farther than necessary, squared her shoulders as if to take up more physical space.

  
Itching to touch, Angela brushed a shoulder against hers. It became a hand that made its way up her arm, to a collarbone, a defined jaw...

  
Fareeha breathed her name, a plea and a question. Angela took her hand and led her to the bathroom, mercifully unoccupied. Fareeha sat down on the single fold-up chair near the sink, and uninhibited, Angela slid onto her lap, pleased when Fareeha cupped her hips and pulled her closer. Fareeha's lips were hard against her own, hungry and tasting sharply of alcohol. Angela returned the kiss with equal vigor, grasping a fistful of the hair above Fareeha’s neck and sliding her jacket off her shoulders. Fareeha hummed into her mouth and Angela slipped her other hand under Fareeha’s tank top. The sight of Fareeha, hair mussed and Angela’s lipstick on her mouth, shot straight to her core.

  
Fareeha’s thumbs began inching up Angela’s sides, and Angela helped her pull her own shirt off her head. Finally pulling away from the kiss, Fareeha stared at Angela’s topless torso, almost reverent, and then her brows knitted.

  
“We can’t do this here,” she said. “Like this.”

  
Angela swallowed her lust and disappointment, muddled mind uncomprehending. “Okay.”

  
In the absence of a kiss, all adrenaline faded, and she found herself rapidly tiring. She was leaning against Fareeha’s warm chest before she knew what had happened.

  
Angela woke up in her own bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, and with a splitting headache. Rubbing her eyes, she spotted a fresh glass of water and a cup of coffee on her nightstand. Memories of Fareeha from the previous night rushed back to her. She groaned as she took a sip from the mug, dark liquid just warm enough to still be drinkable. Fareeha brewed well, she noted idly. At least it hadn’t escalated…

  
She ignored the twinge of disappointment that it hadn’t. She was attracted to Fareeha, very much so, but that was where it ended. She wasn’t looking for commitment, and hadn’t had a desire to be tied down to someone for a very long time. In her profession, it was a liability she couldn’t afford to have. Fareeha would have to be on the same page if anything were to… come to fruition.

  
Angela brushed her teeth and took a much-needed shower. By the time she dressed and made her way to the kitchen, it was past Fareeha's usual breakfast time, and she was nowhere to be seen. Angela made a mental note to thank her later for the coffee and water.

  
Angela holed herself up in the lab after that. She still had some boxes to unpack and sort, some she hadn’t opened up in years. Snapping on a dusk mask and gloves just in case, she couldn't help but feel she was opening up what might have been best kept closed. Heart heavy with history, she was elbow deep when she heard a tentative knock on her office door.

  
Angela bid them entrance absently.

  
“Are you busy?”

  
She perked up at the sound of Fareeha’s voice. “No, I needed a break anyway." She slipped off her mask and gloves. "Thank you for the coffee this morning, by the way.”

  
“It was no problem.” Fareeha stood stiffly by the door, clad in gym clothes. "I wanted to apologize. I was out of line last night."

  
Angela had guessed Fareeha would come to her with a similar speech. Always the honourable soldier.

  
"It was unprofessional," she went on. "And I shouldn't have let my—"

  
"Fareeha, I wanted it just as much. Don’t apologize for something I enjoyed."

  
That seemed to quiet Fareeha, and Angela took advantage of the lull in conversation. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something. An arrangement of sorts.”

  
Angela hadn’t been planning on asking so soon, but Fareeha in compression shorts was pushing her to reconsider.

  
Fareeha blinked. “What sort of arrangement?” she ventured, closing the door behind her.

  
Angela steeled herself. “How do you feel about having certain benefits to our relationship?”

  
Fareeha raised her eyebrows, and then smiled for the first time since entering the room. “Angela, you know I already have medical insurance.”

  
“ _Fareeha_.”

  
Fareeha’s expression turned serious, and she licked her lips in concentration. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  
“Of course,” Angela said, relieved she hadn’t been outright rejected.

  
Fareeha hovered for a moment. “Make sure you get some lunch.” She smiled. “It’s a concoction of Reinhardt’s nobody seems to be able to pronounce.”

  
Angela returned her smile. “I’ll be sure to.”

  
“Have a good day, Angela,” Fareeha said, shutting the door quietly behind her.

 

* * *

  
  
Angela peeled off her Valkyrie suit, the smell of sweat and blood clinging to her. It was a stench that had ceased to disgust her decades ago, when she had convinced herself it only meant she was doing what was needed.

  
She detested that any blood be spilled at all, but she understood that the alternative was standing by idly. She couldn't lose sight of that, especially on quiet nights.

  
The showers were free, as she expected. At two in the morning, the six teammates that had accompanied her had likely gone straight to bed. Angela was quite comfortable in herself, but she still preferred her privacy. She hung up her robe and towel and twisted the faucet, exhaling when hot water poured down her head. She lathered her shampoo, feeling any remaining adrenaline fade.

  
Preoccupied, Angela didn’t notice Fareeha standing in front of her in a bathrobe until it was too late. They held eye contact for a split second, after which Fareeha held a hand up to shield her eyes and promptly walked into the nearest wall.

  
Fareeha swore, clutching her forehead. Angela’s doctorly instincts kicked in and she rushed over, removing Fareeha's hand from her face and running a soft thumb over the light bump.

  
“That’ll bruise a bit,” she said. Fareeha tried to look Angela in the eye. After failing, her gaze instinctively dropped lower, and then, realizing her mistake, flicked to the side. Angela could see redness even through her bronze skin, and chuckled.

  
“It’s okay. You can look. I don’t mind.”

  
“Are you sure? I can leave.”

  
“Communal showers are nothing new to me. Please stay,” Angela said. “Unless you’re uncomfortable yourself.”

  
Fareeha laughed, regaining her easy confidence. “I was in the army,” she said, as if that was an answer.

  
Angela watched her shuck off her robe, back muscles even more defined without a layer of fabric. She spied a few tattoos she hadn’t seen before: an ornate design on her thigh, tally marks above her ribs, a hieroglyphic bird on her lower back. She was marked with the occasional scar, stretching over shapely thighs, crisscrossing a toned torso.

  
It seemed Fareeha was taking full advantage of Angela’s offer. Her gaze lingered on Angela’s chest, and Angela made sure to lift her arms and tip her head back as she rinsed her hair. She was pleased to find Fareeha’s darkening eyes tracing her movements.

  
“Like what you see?” Angela asked, picking up the bar of soap she had brought and dragging it across her body.

  
Fareeha look amused, but there was a telltale huskiness to her voice. “Of course.”

  
Fareeha’s movements were practiced as she washed her hair. It looked even silkier when wet, and water droplets cascaded down her skin in a stream. Angela watched, mesmerized, until she had no excuse to stay any longer. She sauntered past Fareeha to retrieve her towel, then, swaying her hips just so. She patted herself dry and pulled on her robe.

  
Angela dreamed of Fareeha that night: her body, her hair, lying beneath her, above her, all in disjointed snippets of a whole.

 

* * *

  
  
Angela tried to calm her pounding heart, a weight breathing heavy above her.

  
Fareeha sat up, pulling Angela gently with her. “That was… too close.”

  
“Wouldn’t have killed me,” Angela said, still breathless.

  
Fareeha didn't meet her gaze. "I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

  
Angela tilted Fareeha's chin so they were eye to eye. “You did what you could."

  
Fareeha walked Angela back to safety with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist, and Angela felt her breath coming back to her, her heartbeat slowing to a normal pace.

  
Once again, she would have to thank her later.

 

* * *

  
  
The night was brisk even for October, and Angela clutched a mug of hot chocolate close to her chest.

  
Their vantage point on the Rock of Gibraltar allowed for an unobstructed view of the stars, and the sky was a wide expanse over the Mediterranean Sea.

  
It was strange to think she had been in that sky just hours ago, and had come close to dropping out of it.

  
She heard rather than saw a presence join her side. Confident in her assumption, she didn’t look over when the figure lowered themselves down onto the chair next to her.

  
“Thank you for what you did today,” Angela said.

  
“Don’t thank me. It's a duty to me.” Fareeha let out a breath of air that might have been a laugh. “Have to live up to my tattoo and all.”

  
“Still, I’d be out of commission the next few days if not for you. I appreciate it.”

  
Fareeha was silent for a moment, and then she sighed. “I’ve been thinking about your offer.” She met Angela’s eyes, searching. “I’d like to accept it.”

  
Angela pushed down her sudden nerves. “Oh? Was it because you walked in on me in the shower?”

  
Fareeha laughed softly. “That was just the tipping point. I realized that if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I would regret saying no.”

  
Angela mulled over her words, returning her gaze to the sky. Angela could feel Fareeha’s eyes on her, and she smiled.

  
“Can’t have regrets now, can we?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback waters my crops and clears my skin so please let me know what you think! :)


End file.
